The Wanderer And The Waitress
by BabyPups Whitlock
Summary: Every person has a path in life, whether it be one of destiny or one of wandering. The tumbleweeds aren't the only thing strolling into this one horse town. Collab with TittyKickers
1. Chapter 1

**What I own: An unusual number of stripper heels, an adorable cupcake print apron and a Siamese mix cat.**

**What I don't: Twilight. Despite a strong physical resemblance, I am not her and I am making nothing off of this piece of fiction. I just like to play in her sandbox. **

**This is written in collaboration with the amazing TittyKickers… she writes Jasper, I do Bella, its all kinds of fun. Reviews make me grin like a movie star and will be rewarded with sneak peaks and possibly panty flashes if you are lucky. **

"Bells! Hey, Bells!" My best friend Jacob's voice was rich and deep, resonating with laughter as he ran up to me, throwing his strong arms around my waist and spinning me around. Shrieking, I pounded futilely on his developed chest and squirmed in an attempt to get free.

"So help me god Jacob Black, I will guarantee that you will never be able to please a man again if you don't put me down this fucking second!" The threat in my words was negated by the laughter that was behind them and Jacob ignore me and continued to spin , my long, dark hair flying out behind me as the hazy sun filtered through the trees down on us.

"Yeah, I'd LOVE to see you try it Belly bear!" Jacob barked with laughter as we spun, and I squeezed my eyes shut relishing the feel of the cool, damp Washington wind that flew by us.

"Seriously Jake, if you don't put me down I am going to puke on your shoes!" That threat still carried some weight and I found myself being dumped, rather unceremoniously, onto the soft, green grass against which I collapsed with a laugh. Squeezing my eyes shut I tilted my head up to the sky, barely feeling the rare warmth from the sun on my face and relishing the cool, clean, fresh scent of my home town. Forks, Washington, with its two traffic lights, one grocery store and a population that was less than the high school I had briefly attended in Phoenix, was not for everyone but I loved it. My dad was here, my friends and my home, the only real home that I had ever known. Forcing my eyes open, I looked around for Jacob, perplexed when I didn't see him but, rather, a small pink bunny rabbit sitting in the middle of the field. Forcing myself up I crossed to the small creature and lay down, the ground damp under my stomach and faced it, meeting its dark eyes.

"Jacob?"

The bunny studied me before opening its mouth to reveal sharp, dark teeth. "I've got a pocket full of sunshine Isabella…" The creatures voice was distorted as it responded, beady eyes sparkling, "Take me away" The creature coughed and hopped away, leaving a trail of pink glitter in its wake.

"Wait, Jake, what am I supposed to do? I was desperate for an answer to my question as dark, black clouds filled the sky and the temperature dropped, a shiver racing down my back.

The bunny stopped and smirked mischievously, seemingly thinking over his reply. "A sweet escape, Bella, a holiday…" With that it bounded for the trees and disappeared just as a huge crack of thunder rang out and the sky opened up, spilling heavy cold raindrops and pink glitter down on me….

I sat up with a start, the annoying strains of 'Pocketful of Sunshine' blasting from my alarm clock, and my sheets in tangled ropes around my legs.

I knocked the purple clock off of the nightstand, effectively silencing it and dropping back to my pillows with an exasperated sigh, images of my dream flashing through my mind, already becoming cloudy at the edges. I really needed to find a new song to wake up to. Glancing towards the window, the bright Texas sunlight peeked in around my dark curtains. I was about as far from Forks as I could ever get and only one person there even knew how to find me, which was exactly what I wanted. Jakes blinding smile floated through my mind and I resolved to write to my dear friend in the next day or so. Of everything that I had left behind in Forks, his friendship was what I missed the most. Shaking my head I set about untangling the sheets from my bare legs and sliding out of bed, stretching towards the ceiling as my spine popped contentedly. I quickly shrugged into my white silk robe that had lay, haphazardly, over my night table and crossed over to the window, opening the curtains and blinds and allowing the bright, midday sun to stream into my room before heading into the bathroom to shower and change for work. I had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

''This is as good as it's going to get" I muttered the words to my reflection in the mirror, twenty minutes later, as I swept my long, damp, dark hair up into a messy bun and slicked some gloss on my lips, leaving the rest of my face bare before pulling the scratchy, stiff blue polyester dress up over my curves and tying the starched white apron around my waist. Shaking my head I glanced at my clock and grabbed my backpack before heading out the door. The moment I stepped outside I was engulfed by the oppressive Texas humidity and I smiled softly as I slipped my sunglasses on. The tiny town in southern Texas was smaller than Forks and, strangely, I found myself loving it. The cracked asphalt shimmered in the heat as I headed down the street, passing both the post office and the only grocery store on my short, two block journey.

Stopping in front of the rundown, white building, I braced myself slightly before pushing the glass door open. The tiny bell above the door chimed and I was greeted with a chorus of ''hellos'' and ''good afternoons'' from the patrons of Ruby and Robert's. I waved a response and headed towards the tiny break room, the scents of coffee, barbeque and pie mingling in the air. Pushing the door of the small space open, I dropped my bag next to the small table and poured a cup of coffee into a heavy, shipped white mug, taking a long sip of the beverage. I didn't particularly like the stuff but its rich scent and slightly bitter taste always reminded me of waking up on weekends with my dad. Charlie drank at least a pot a day on his own and, by default; I had started drinking it as well. I shook the thought of my father out of my head, refusing to dwell on the memories right now. There was a time for that and it was definitely not now. I dug in my bag for a few pens and shoved them in my apron pocket before affixing my small, gold plated name tag to my pocket. Isabella. I had begged Ruby to shorten it to Bella but she had refused with a lopsided grin, insisting my name was perfectly lovely. Chuckling softly I left the quiet and calm of the break room and headed back into the hustle and bustle of the diner. Taking a quick glance around me recognized most of the customers and could greet them by name. Okay, nearly half of them answered to some variation of Billy, but still. With a grin I ducked behind the battered counter and grabbed one of the three pots of hot coffee that we had brewing at all times and headed back out, drifting from table to table, making polite small talk and refilling cups. Time passed quickly in the diner. Waiting tables, while never anyone's dream job, was good enough for me. If anyone had told me three years ago that I would be waiting tables in a barbeque joint in East Jesus Nowhere, Texas I would have scoffed and asked what drugs they were on. It seemed almost a lifetime ago that I had been a smiling college student at U-dub Seattle, studying English Literature with the kind of zeal only a bright eyed twenty-one year old can have, A lifetime that had come to a screeching halt at the hands of a stupid, scared kid and some asshole who didn't know enough to get a designated driver. As I set about bussing tables and arranging coffee cups, my mind wandered , thoughts of my parents flickering across my mind ending abruptly with memorial services for each of them, thousands of miles and two months apart. Two months was all it had taken for me to lose the only family that I had ever had. I was pulled out of my thought by the deep, jovial voice of Billy Ray, a grizzled good ol' boy who liked his coffee black, his steak rare and considered macaroni and cheese a vegetable. "Bella, sugar, think I could get a refill?" He held up his white mug with a grin. I shook all thoughts of my past from my head, smiled and grabbed the coffee pot, glad for the distraction, and began another trip around the diner.

Eight hours later, the sun had long since dipped below the horizon, the temperature had dropped so it was bearable and I was still at work. I glanced down at the crumb and coffee covered table top before me moments before I wiped it down with a stained cloth, the crumbs falling silently to the floor. It was almost 10PM and most of our customers had left, only the few stragglers hanging on, sipping their coffees. Soft, old, country music drifted through the small space, punctuated soft coughs and the scrape of metal against china. I kneeled down behind the counter, sliding open the display case that housed Ruby's ridiculously delicious pies and set about re-arranging them, the rich scent of butter, sugar, fruit and spices mingling and making my mouth water. I hear the familiar sound of the old door creaking open followed by the tinkle of the bell signaling the arrival of another customer. I sighed softly and glanced at the clock on the wall. 9:45. fucking perfect. "Have a seat anywhere you want, I'll be right there" My voice carried a slight edge of irritation. I continued to shuffle the flakey pastries that were in front of my, my stomach growling slightly as not exactly needed reminder of the fact that I had not eaten in hours.

"Jesus Hell Bella, its only another hour" I whispered the words under my breath before standing up, brushing my crumb covered hands on the stiff starched apron as I grabbed my pen and order pad and scanned the diner for my new arrival, catching sight of an unfamiliar form in a corner booth. Smiling slightly I headed towards him, my sneakers squeaking on the scuffed and dinged linoleum as I approached the booth. The jingle of coins and scuff of chairs announced the departure of at least a few of my remaining customers. I paused and glanced back at the door, grinning and waving.

"Night boys, I'll see you tomorrow"

"You take care Bella darlin', and watch out on your walk home" Waylon, a weathered rancher paused at the door and smiled after his customary departing warning.

"Now Waylon, " I turned towards the door, my hands playfully on my hips even as a smile tugged at my lips as I addressed the grandfatherly man, "You know I always carry pepper spray, and besides, I live two blocks away and it's not like Cold Spring is a hotbed of criminal activity." I gave a quick wink and Waylon waved, watching the door shut before turning back to the customer who was still seated in the booth. "I'm sorry about that honey; can I get you some water before you order?" I arrived at the table and my eyes finally rested on the man in front of me. My mouth went a bit dry as I took in the man in front of me. His head was down but I could still see dark blond hair curled around exquisitely sculpted cheekbones, and lips that stood out, dark and plush against almost shockingly pale skin. A well loved acoustic guitar sat in the booth next to him, and I smiled slightly as I stumbled to find my voice, a blush forming on my cheeks as I waited for his response, oddly disappointed at the simple nod. "Alright then, coming right up." I tap my pen on my pad and turn, heading back to the kitchen. My hands shook slightly as I grabbed the glass and scooped ice in it before adding some of Cold Springs finest and heading back out towards my only remaining customer. I sat the glass down and grabbed a straw from my pocket, setting it on the chipped Formica table top.

"So what can I get for you?" I kept my eyes on the handsome stranger as I waited on his reply.

"The water is just fine, I'm not hungry." His voice was husky and low, a deep Texas accent sending a small chill down my spine.

I nod mutely and smile my voice light. "Well if you need anything, just let me know. We'll be closing in a few minutes but I'll be in the kitchen if you change your mind." I once again feel a blush stain my cheeks as I turn away and head into the empty kitchen, organizing the menus in a neat pile and taking a quick peek into the fridge, removing the slice of homemade cherry pie that I had stashed away and pouring a tall glass of milk. Hopping up on the counter I took a small bite, the sweet juicy fruit and rich buttery crust exploding over my tongue as I chewed. I moaned softly before swallowing and set my snack on the counter, the china clinking against the scarred counter, blending with the sound of the bell and the opening of the door. I slid off the counter, my white converse slapping against the floor and headed back out to the main diner just in time to see the door swing shut, the bright moonlight shining off of dark blond hair as the stranger walked away, his guitar over his shoulder. I shake my head in disappointment as I head towards the door, sliding the cold deadbolt and flipping the open sign over with a soft sigh, grabbing the rag that still sits on the counter and heading back to the corner booth, where a weathered ten dollar bill sat beside the untouched glass of water.

"I guess he liked the service." I laugh softly and the sound echoes in the now empty space, my fingers flipping the switch and plunging the room into darkness.

**Pups fic rec corner: Okay my lovelies, just one rec for you today: ****Happy Birthday, Darlin' by the incomparable GemmaLisaX. This lovely little glass of lemonade was just perfect, sweet and intense at the same time. Go, read and review… and tell her Pups sent you!**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, all characters belong to Stephanie Meyer.

Note: This a collab with puppymama0909, she will be writing Bella's POV and I will be writing Jasper's. The chapters will alternate between POV's. Chapters will go up two at a time, starting with Jasper's POV, then Bella's. In puppymama0909's case, her first chapter will start with Bella's POV, then be Jasper's.

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The Wanderer and Waitress

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I never thought I would find myself here. Here as in, wandering the wide streets of a one horse town with nothing but my companion. I glance down at the swinging guitar case in my hand and ponder exactly how many towns she had seen already. One town, one day, that's all I ever stayed. It was enough for me to feed, if I needed, then I was gone again. I was somewhere in the thousands since I had left Peter and Charlotte. Five years had gone by since I left them after not finding any solace in the last half-a-century with my former coven.

Peter and Charlotte had tried to get me to stay, even if it was just a bit longer with them but I didn't want to burden them anymore than I already had. It was almost at the year mark and all I ever did was sit in my room, strum and pluck my guitar and wallow in self-pity. I had way too much time to think on my hands and needed different scenery then I had currently been at. It was the same old song over and over again. Play my guitar until all hours of the night, listen to Peter and Charlotte ravish each other senseless and hunt when I felt the need. Weeks would go by and sometimes Peter would force me to go and hunt, even if it was only just a taste to take away the blackness in my hallowed eyes.

For a half a century with my former, I lived more like a human that I had ever had in over the century that I had lived, until now. I still managed to maintain some of those human characteristics, well, all but one. My eyes told a different story. They told another side of my story. They have returned back to what my past held, human feeding. They were crimson red; the tell-tale sign that someone like me is a human drinker. Before now they were a golden hue, and I fed off animals. It never really sated my thirst, only made the burn dull in the back of my throat.

What does a wanderer do you ask? Well, I think I just told you up there, especially with one who is a vampire, like me. I don't stay long enough for anyone to remember me in the first place. I lift my gaze to the flickering sign of the only restaurant in town, Ruby and Roberts. The building looked about as old as I was and the smell that was coming from it, was just as bad. I filtered out the smells, humans, food and not so human by which I mean animals. Each was wretched in its own manner, except one. The scent was heavenly, black orchids and was that hibiscus? It was exquisite and my throat flared slightly. I swallowed thickly and bit back the hiss that wanted to escape. That would be my next meal, if I knew the owner.

I wandered down the path; kicking a rock and watching it sail out into the distance as my guitar swung next to me. I glanced at the lot next to the restaurant and saw a few rusted vehicles. Shrugging lightly, I dismissed that this town was like every other one I had stepped into lately. It only had one street light, one stop light, and no stop sign in sight. I stepped my way across the broken sidewalk and found it to be much like my life had been the last five years. Each cement slab was littered with cracks, some places were uneven and others were just missing.

I reached up, brushing my blonde locks out of my eyes and looked down at my clothes. I had on the same outfit I had worn for weeks on end; consisting of very little but torn and tattered jeans, a well-worn pair of cowboy boots and a simple white t-shirt, with a flannel over. I looked off into the distance and saw the thunder clouds getting ready to roll in. The wind picked up and sent that scent billowing back towards me again. I once again, swallowed hard. I needed to find the source. I glanced into the restaurants dingy brown windows, with cracked and peeled painting, taking note of the patrons. An older gentleman, sipping on a cup of coffee; a small child with him that was eating what looked to be cherry pie; and waitress, in a starched pale blue uniform, with an apron. The outfit looked hideous and extremely uncomfortable, pity it hid her figure. I shook my head and growled under my breath for having such intrusive thoughts about a woman that I didn't even know. I passed by the door and walked to the end of the building before making the decision that maybe I should go in. The scent had lingered in the air near the door while I passed by, maybe it was the waitresses. Surely, it wouldn't be the child's scent that was that potent, nor would it be the gentleman's.

I crossed back towards the door and stood there for a second when I reached it. My doubt had always seemed to creep in at the most inopportune times. I let the thought go and pulled open the door, hearing the bell above it jingle out into the wind. The scent of black orchids and hibiscus slammed into me and the venom pooled in my mouth. I sighed, shaking my head as I dismissed the waitress's eye which had caught me. Well, there was my next meal. The waitress in the scratchy blue uniform, which was unflattering and stunk of this place; she was going to be dinner.

I slowly walked over to the booth in the back, resting my guitar in the seat across from me and glanced out the filthy window. I thought of the many other times I had done this, sitting in a lone corner booth, waiting until some unsuspecting worker was done with their shift. I paid no mind to the gentleman and his grandson with the pie, but could hear the conversation they were having. The grandson made no movement but the swinging of his legs and the tink of his fork every once in a while that clambered onto the plate when his grandfather spoke of his time in the war. The boy was amazed, fascinated and I knew he was hanging onto every word that his grandfather spoke. I let out a soft chuckle to myself with my eyes trained outside.

Through the dirty window, I still managed to see my reflection. I let my eyes rake over what I saw; the clothes of a modern man, the features of an immortal and the eyes of a haunted man. That was how I saw myself most of the time. Beauty to me came in the most deadly ways and that started with my beginning, my second life. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, listening to the clattering of dishes in the back of the restaurant. I must have just missed the dinner rush, not that there would be many people here to begin with. I bet the food was good, down-home Southern cooking. The footsteps of the waitress pattered against the floor like the constant of when I strummed my guitar in the middle of the night. They clicked, keeping time with the ticking clock that hung somewhere in the distance.

I could hear the waitress approach me and I turned my head slowly. Her calm demeanor and plastered on fake smile said that her job wasn't what she had intended it to be. I knew my story and as I glanced over the cotton blue uniform, my eye caught the nametag. Now, I wondered what Isabella's story was. How did she end up in this one horse town with a wanderer ready to eat her alive? Her scent washed over me and I had to clear my throat as my eyes traveled further up her uniform. A small stain of cherry pie was just below the collar. I chuckled softly as I wondered exactly how that had gotten there. I let my eyes finish to the path that it had taken in the first place. Isabella's face.

Her features were soft, the heart-shaped lines of her jaw, set the rest of her face in perfect alignment, except one eye drooped a millimeter lower than the other. Her eyes softened the rigid lines of her cheekbones while her hair was pulled back tightly, swept up in a ponytail with some adornments. She was flawless. Beauty in this case was as innocent as the perception of the waitress she portrayed. I slowly reached out with my gift, making myself unknown to her and smirked. Her emotions were a mix of acceptance, relief and a slight case of irritation. I'm quite sure it was the fact that I had blatantly let my eyes wander up her figure as she stood there.

She asked me if I wanted a glass of water and I simply nodded, not saying a word. She turned stiffly on her heel, muttering something under her breath I couldn't quite catch and walked behind the counter. The sound of the glass digging into the ice and the flow of water broke my haze and I returned my gaze back out to the window. Again, I saw my own reflection. I criticized every hardened line of my face, the crimson that stared back at me and the beauty that would swoon my meal. I glanced over at my guitar, looking at every sticker that was placed on the case, a memory of some towns I had been in. Austin, Dallas and back to where I was born, Galveston stood out in my vision. The rest I could honestly do without; they brought up only of the death that I had bestowed upon their towns.

I could hear the light footsteps of Isabella approaching me again and setting the glass of water down on the table. I let my gaze flicker to the glass; with the heat condensation had already started to form from the chill of the ice. I reached out, pulling the glass to me and brushed my fingers along the rim, following its circular form. I kept my eyes trained on the glass, my fingers lightly moving in circles while the silence filled the air. I focused on Isabella's heartbeat while my fingers played. One, two, three…it continued on, steady and strong.

"There is a menu over there, if you would like something to eat?" She asked me and motioned towards the menu that was stuck behind the napkin holder.

"The water is just fine, I'm not very hungry at this moment."

I held my breath at the interaction; her scent was calling to me, and I couldn't risk taking her down before her shift was over. I let my eyes flicker up to the pulse point on her neck, watching the blood flow under the pale skin, and returned my eyes back to the glass. I could hear her footsteps withdraw away from me. She muttered again, incoherently; she honestly needed to speak up besides some talking like a pre-recorded show host. I stuck my finger in the glass, swirling the ice around and felt the temperature was even with mine. Something as cold as I was that was unlike my next meal. Isabella was warm and that was all that mattered to me at the moment.

I blew out the breath that I had been holding and listened as the grandfather and the little boy made their exit. The little bell above the door, ringing and the shuffle of the old man's feet made the emotions of the boy sadden. This must have been one of his favorite times, spending it with his grandfather over cherry pie. The door closed and I was cut off from their emotions; the only three people I could feel were the cook, someone in the back who must have had a door cracked open and Isabella. The cook was very disgruntled about his job but seemed to have a passion for whatever he was making. The second person was happy about what I did not know, and then there was Isabella. She was a never-ending swirl of emotions. I wondered what exactly she was thinking about with the cocktail that she was throwing off and was quite inclined to at least know something about her before she was killed. I didn't want to know her story, just a small minute detail. Her footsteps were drawing nearer again, seeing as I was the only patron in the entire restaurant and I pushed the glass of water away. I glanced over her shoulder at the clock. It was just before nine and I figured they were getting ready to close up. I listened to her heartbeat and locked my eyes with her as I stood up.

"We are getting ready to close up." She stated simply.

I gave her a curt nod and buttoned up my flannel shirt, pretending to have a chill and grabbed my guitar from the seat. I kept my eyes trained on her before I brushed past, inhaling slightly at her scent and let the venom pool in my mouth. The scent of black orchids and hibiscus would forever be ingrained in my head as the last meal of Cold Spring, Texas. I would bury the body and head out just before dawn, never returning to this one horse town for another kill. I reached out, pushing the door as my guitar swung at my side languidly and listened for the jingle of the bell as I made my exit to find a spot to wait.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed the first round of Jasper's POV. Leave some love and you will get a teaser from the next chapter.

TK


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